Tales from Tython
by Taraum
Summary: Prompts taken from the SWTOR Short Fiction Weekly Challenge. Various snippets from my character's lives, some from Tython, most from other places. Ratings will vary, and spoilers will be marked.


If there was one thing living on Coruscant during her formative years had taught her, it was that no matter how grand a place might seem, underneath the surface, there would always be deceit and decay. Alderaan was a beautiful planet, of that there could never be any doubt. With towering summits and breathtaking scenery, the place seemed an idyllic paradise from the rest of the galaxy's tension and strife. At least, to the untrained eye it seemed so. But, then, sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between her own training and the Force.

Aleanya Lenx shook her head and squashed the feeling down mercilessly. Normally, her instincts (or the Force, of whatever the kriffing hell one wanted to call it) served her well, but here among these silk-robed vipers, the distraction might prove fatal. Mako smiled nervously at her, fingers twitching along her own handheld blasters. Aleanya shook her head, trying not to laugh. Normally she was the one with the itchy trigger finger. A smirk crossed her face, and Mako broke into a grin. It would do little good to start shooting before they even had the details on their target. Besides, the nobles here weren't worth the effort. Their security was heavy, but Aleanya had yet to see a blaster on even one of them. It was possible they had them hidden for the sake of "propriety", but...still. Aleanya wanted a quarry that was actually worth her time. She stopped just behind one of the older nobles, recognizing him from their information as a member of House Girard.

"I'd just cuffed the whelp for scuffing my boot with the stirrup when-" the man turned slightly, finally sensing her presence. "Ugh! Abominable!"

My, my. What have we here?" the younger one asked, crossing his arms and eyeing her form lasciviously. Aleanya tamped down her frustration, taking the chance to eye the boy. Because that was the only way he could be described. He was barely taller than she, with a whip-thin build and air of superiority barely concealed by false charm. She imagined he'd likely be quick and light on his feet, probably trained in their "dueling". Likely learning and encouraged to blame his opponents and teachers if he ever lost. She shivered imperceptibly, remembering the years of combat training, martial arts instruction, and blaster training that her father had forced on her and her twin sister Lyn. He'd pushed them mercilessly, demanded perfection, and never allowed them to direct the blame at anyone except themselves. She and Lyn had grown up hard and fast, forced to sacrifice their childhoods to learn the skills necessary to one day lead and maintain their father's gang. So ironic that it had never happened that way. Lyn had faked her death at sixteen, and Aleanya had disappeared at nineteen. Their father had sent a small army of trackers and hunters, and each had been returned to him with a hole between their eyes (or eye-stalks, depending on the species).

Aleanya smirked, making a show of leering at the boy again. Mako had warned her that the nobles of Alderaan were different, that they thought they were untouchable. If they only knew who they were dealing with. Of her and Lyn, she was the one who'd taken after their father. She'd seen horrible things done to the people who crossed him, and she'd learned how to do them. The things he'd taught her were disgusting and she preferred never to use them, but he'd taught her how to survive. If this _child_ thought he could ever tempt her, he was sorely mistaken. And she was about to be very amused. Aleanya put on her most menacing smile and placed a hand on one hip. It was to the boy's credit that the arrogant look fell from his face.

"You look bored, handsome. Why don't you get me a drink?" she requested. She felt Mako's surprise.

"Really? I wouldn't peg him as your type. He is pretty cute, though," she said.

"Jorian whiskey? You strike me as a lady who likes something with a little bite," he replied, taking the smallest step back. Aleanya nodded before the older noble interrupted.

"Don't encourage her, Raffid. You need no more opportunities to drag our family's name through the mud," he scolded before turning back to her. "You must leave. Now. And use the servant's exit. People would talk if they saw someone of your ilk here." Aleanya snorted and crossed her arms. Well, at least this one had a backbone.

"I guess I should have worn my strapless blast vest," she chuckled.

"You are quite the wag, my dear. We should keep her around, Uncle," Raffid grinned, earlier fear overcome by his amusement at the childish exchange. Aleanya sighed. Oh, well, it had been fun while it lasted.

"Do shut up, Raffid, or I'll be speaking to your father," his uncle replied.

"Must you two squabble in front of our guests? You're causing more of a stir than our visitor here," the woman with them said, shaking her head. "Would you bring shame upon our house? If-"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please, return to the festivities. I will have a word with our esteemed guest here," Baron Girard announced, finally shouldering his way through the crowd to them.

"Glad to finally meet somebody civil," Aleanya said gratefully.

"You'll have to forgive my relations. They have a low threshold for impropriety." At that, Raffid and the young woman had the grace to blush before turning back to their party.

"You're not seriously considering dealing with this thug?" the older noble asked in outrage.

"I have the situation well in hand, Uncle. Return to the festivities. This is not a request," Baron Girard said, voice laced with steel. The older man rolled his eyes but complied. Aleanya had to admit, the Baron knew how to get what he wanted. If her father had been in this situation, no one else would have been left standing. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she started when the baron leaned into her ear.

"I believe I know why you're here, but this is a conversation best conducted in private. Please wait for me in my office. I'll be right with you," he whispered. Aleanya nodded, and he pointed the way before departing. As they went, Mako tapped her on the arm.

"Really? You like Raffid? The Baron is sooo much cuter…all suave and refined," she giggled. Aleanya glanced back to where Raffid was already flirting with a servant.

"A momentary mistake. Now that I think about it, I don't really like the look of him. Too scrawny for my taste," she winked. "I prefer a man with a little more _stature_." Mako's brow wrinkled in confusion before recognition dawned and she started blushing.

"And by that you mean…well, um…yes," she stuttered. Aleanya linked an arm through hers and laughed.

"Things you're too young to know about."


End file.
